


Something Carries On

by blue_marauder



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, But loss is definitely a theme, Christmas, Family member deaths happen offscreen and before the action of the story, Fluff, Happy Ending, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Minor Character Death, Names and situations have been changed so as not to get too close to real life events, Not very much smut, Strangers to Lovers, Vacation, my apologies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 19:52:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16839292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_marauder/pseuds/blue_marauder
Summary: Louis would do anything to escape the prison of his emotions around the holidays. He would even go so far as to abandon his remaining family members and go on a trip to Greece, seeing as they're better off without his holiday angst anyway. While on his trip, Louis meets a kind and vulnerable stranger who manages to break through his defenses.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was really a ploy for me to force myself to get back into writing. Other things in my life had taken over during the past couple of years, and therefore this is probably the longest and most involved thing I've written in its entirety since college. 
> 
> I want to thank Lauren (@fullonlarrie) for creating this fic fest and for giving me an extra 24 hours to work despite having had months to write. I'd also like to thank several people who will (hopefully) never read this, for encouraging me to get my head back in the game. 
> 
> This is not a perfect story by any means, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here  
Even if it takes all night or a hundred years  
Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near  
Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear

Isn't it lovely, all alone?  
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone  
Tear me to pieces, skin and bone  
Hello, welcome home

\- Billie Eilish with Khalid, _lovely_

* * *

“As soon as the pumpkins get put away, they hit you with the baubles and the trees,” Louis said, trudging down the sidewalk with his head bowed against the wind. “The poor turkey doesn’t even get acknowledgement.”

Niall snorted in response, pausing to fish the spare change out of his pocket and toss it into the red bucket in front of Starbucks. The woman standing next to it paused in her bell-ringing to say, “Thank you, sir! Have a happy holiday!”

“I know you hate Christmas,” said Niall, falling back into step beside Louis. They automatically turned right at the corner without discussing it, heading straight for their favorite sandwich shop in the city. They had to walk halfway across town from the office to get to it, but it was completely worthwhile, even when it was blustery along the river.

“It’s not even that,” says Louis, dodging a few people who were walking towards them on the sidewalk with seemingly no intention of moving aside. “There’s a whole holiday in between Halloween and Christmas that everyone just skips over. And it’s a pretty good one, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” said Niall, “but what’s wrong with stretching Christmas out as long as possible? Most people love it - it makes them happy.”

“Most people are idiots,” said Louis, wrenching open the glass door of Carmelo’s and herding Niall inside against the wind.

A few haphazard-looking people sat inside the tiny sandwich shop, their scarves still wrapped around their necks. The air smelled of grease, onions, and garlic, the same way it always did. Niall made his way through an aisle of randomly placed chairs and ordered two hot roast beef sandwiches with provolone, while Louis commandeered their usual small table in the back corner of the room.

After a few minutes, Niall returned with two fistfuls of napkins, which he threw onto the plastic vinyl surface of the table without much care for where they all landed. He threw himself into the chair across from Louis and let out a long sigh.

“So, any big plans for the holidays this year?”

Louis glared at him.

Niall shrugged. “It’ll be here before you know it, Lou. It’s already the second week of November.”

“I know what week it is,” Louis said, unconsciously seizing a napkin and beginning to tear it into pieces.

“I told you my family is going to Disney this year, right?” Niall said.

“You’re joking.” Louis froze in his napkin tearing and looked up. Niall looked miserable.

“My nephew just turned three, so my brother and his wife bought the entire family tickets to spend Christmas there.”

“That’s....one hell of an expensive Christmas,” said Louis, unsure of what the correct response was.

“It’s going to be awful. I’m spending Christmas in the most crowded place on the entire planet, with a three-year-old, in the heat.”

“Can’t say I envy you that,” said Louis.

“So?” said Niall. “What about you? I don’t want to be worrying about you up here all by yourself while I’m in Florida getting herded around with the rest of the human cattle.”

Louis scoffed and returned to his napkin shredding. “I’ll be fine, Niall. I always am.”

“Your definition of ‘fine’ and mine are vastly different,” said Niall. “You’re not forgetting the year you puked into my dad’s stocking, are you?”

“Thanks to you bringing it up every chance you get, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that, much as I’d like to,” said Louis, rolling his eyes.

“And then there was the time when you kidnapped my neighbor’s cat…”

“I thought it was a stray!” Louis said, accidentally throwing up his hands so that the shredded napkin flew everywhere.

“And you thought a stray cat would make a great last-minute Christmas gift for your stepmother?”

“Clearly,” said Louis. “Better than a gift card. More personal.”

A man wearing a shirt covered in bleach stains approached their table and plopped a plastic tray down onto their pile of napkins containing their two sandwiches - four halves wrapped in wax paper. He walked away without a word. Louis grabbed one of the sandwich halves and tore the paper away, letting the salty, savory scent of the roast beef fill his nostrils before he took a bite.

“It is nice that we get the entire week between Christmas and New Year’s off, though,” said Niall, chewing thoughtfully. “It would suck having to use PTO for a trip I’m contractually obligated to attend.”

“Yeah, they’re great about stuff like that,” said Louis.

Louis had joined his current company right out of college as an intern, and had slowly climbed the ranks up to his current position as a Senior Copywriter. When the agency later needed to hire a new video editor, Louis brought in Niall, his best friend since childhood. This meant that he and Niall worked one floor away from each other in a big glass building, went on company trips together, and ate lunch at their favorite greasy sandwich shop at least once a week. (And the signing bonus they each got for the whole arrangement wasn’t too terrible, either.)

“For real, Louis. What are you going to do with your time off? Hang out at home?” Niall asked through a mouthful of roast beef.

Louis grimaced, then said, “I don’t know. I was thinking of getting away for a bit.”

“Yeah? Like, over Christmas?”

“Probably.”

“Your family’s okay with that?”

Louis shrugged. “They don’t necessarily know yet. But it doesn’t matter.”

Niall frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean they know how I feel about Christmas. They’ll get over it.”

Niall actually set down his sandwich.

“Lou, come on. They’re going to want you home.”

“What about what I want?” Louis didn’t mean for this to come out in quite such a whiny tone, but he couldn’t help it. His voice pitched up in the middle and he shut his eyes for a second. When he reopened them, Niall was still frowning at him.

“I think a trip this time of year might do me some good. Why go through all the hassle and the emotional turmoil when I can just…escape for a bit? I’ll come back in January refreshed instead of angry, like I usually do, and everyone will be better off for it.”

Niall shook his head.

“What? I’ll still get you presents, don’t worry.”

“You’re missing the point,” said Niall, refocusing on his sandwich, “but maybe you’re right. Maybe some time away would do you some good.”

Louis looked down at his tray. One half of his sandwich was still fully intact, wrapped in wax paper. The other half had fallen open after he set it down, spilling onions and shredded lettuce everywhere. His stomach bubbled unpleasantly, as though his gastric acid had suddenly congealed into mud. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” said Niall, “you’ll never believe what the client said about the fashion event video I just cut together. Absolute morons, all of them.”

Louis listened to Niall talk about work for several minutes, adding “Hmm’s” and “Wow’s” into all of Niall’s pauses to make it sound like he was listening when he was really allowing his mind to wander. He had a decent savings account, thanks to not taking many vacations at all during the past few years. He could probably afford to go somewhere decently exotic over Christmas. The mud in his stomach seemed to lessen at the idea. He could find a tropical island paradise, somewhere with no cell phone service, and do nothing but nap on the beach for six whole days.

When Louis next focused, Niall had stopped talking to finish off his sandwich. With a lurch, Louis realized he still hadn’t really touched his.

“You ready?” said Louis, sliding the wrapped half of his sandwich into his coat pocket for later as Niall popped his last bite into his mouth. (He may be an anxious mess of a person, but he’s certainly not going to be one to waste a perfectly good Carmelo’s roast beef sandwich.)

Niall wound his scarf back around his neck and stood, stretching his arms overhead so that his shirt and jacket rode up to expose a stripe of skin above his waistband. He rubbed at it absently. “Good as ever,” he said.

“For sure,” Louis agreed, leading Niall back outside into the chill and the wind.  


* * *

  
That evening found Louis propped up with several pillows on his IKEA sectional. 

“Let’s see if there are any magically amazing yet magically affordable AirBnB’s available, shall we?” he asked his empty apartment.

The apartment said nothing.

_“Entire apartment - studio in downtown Chicago!”_

“Talk about exotic,” Louis said.

_“Entire home - romantic hut in Armenia!”_

“Romance,” Louis said, biting his fingernail, “For one. Perfect.”

He scrolled through a seemingly endless number of options, from a treehouse in Bali to a loft in Napa Valley to an actual windmill in rural England.

Eventually, he realized he’d been sitting in the dark, as the sun has gone down and he’d been too preoccupied to turn on any lights. Unwilling to move, Louis simply ordered dinner from his favorite Chinese restaurant online.

It wasn’t until the food had arrived and Louis had a bite of sweet and sour chicken poised halfway between the carton and his mouth when he saw a picture that stopped him in his tracks. A table and chair, poised on the edge of a gorgeous balcony that looked over a sparkling blue sea. It was in what looked to be a stone building built into the side of a cliff with dozens upon dozens of other picturesque stone buildings. The room came with a hot tub, which was pictured with a glass of wine perched on the edge under a clear night sky.

“Absolutely,” said Louis, neglecting his chicken completely.

The listing was for a deluxe villa in Santorini. And was is somehow, miraculously, available the week of Christmas. Louis fished his wallet out of his jeans pocket with some difficulty, trying not to upset his laptop, and had the place booked before his dinner even began to cool.

* * *

  
Later that night while he lay in bed, Louis struggled to turn off his thoughts and sleep. He rolled over and blinked at his nightstand, which was just barely illuminated thanks to the street lamps outside his window. A tap to his phone screen revealed that it was just past 2am. As he drew his arm back under his covers, he accidentally nudged the framed photograph that sat beside his bed. It slid just slightly too far over the edge of the table and fell with a distressingly loud “thunk” to the floor.

Louis scrambled out of bed to retrieve it, carefully brushing the dust off the glass surface and checking for cracks. It was a photo of his mother, from when she was in her late twenties, right around his age. She was standing in a field of sunflowers, and although the room was dark, Louis could still see the smile on her face even through the shadows and he knew it was brighter than even the clear blue sky above her. He set it carefully back on the nightstand and curled back up in his blankets, letting thoughts of her smile and her kind eyes and her bone-crushing hugs lull him to unconsciousness.

* * *

  
When the yellow “BOARDING” letters flashed up next to his flight number, Louis nearly choked on his beer.

“Excuse me,” he flagged down the bartender. “I’m so sorry - it looks like my flight is leaving early.”

“No worries, love,” she said, snapping her gum.

One signature and ten dollars later, Louis was racing across Philadelphia International, his wheeled luggage flying behind him, bouncing every time the wheels find an uneven bump in the linoleum floors.

He reached gate C28, panting, his lungs on fire. There was a short line of people waiting to board the flight. He joined the end of the queue and checked his boarding pass again on his phone, swiping hurriedly to close out of unnecessary apps.

“It’s not supposed to leave until 3:45,” Louis muttered, “so why in the hell…”

“Boarding pass?” A kind-looking flight attendant smiled at him. He had somehow reached the front of the queue already.

“Oh,” Louis said, “Sorry, yeah.”

She scanned his phone and smiled at him. “Have a wonderful flight, Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, dragging his luggage behind him into the tube-like hallway that connected to the airplane. These things always made him feel like he was inside a giant vacuum cleaner.

He wheeled himself and his bag onto the plane, walked halfway down the length of the aircraft, and found his seat. For the entirety of the connecting flight to Fiumicino, he was apparently going to be sandwiched in between one large businessman (at least, he was a man in a smart suit) and one middle-aged woman who appeared to have a cold, judging by the wad of tissues in her hand. The woes of last-minute vacation planning.

He shoved his luggage into the first empty overhead space he found, then squeezed his way into his seat. His fellow passengers had already laid claim to both of his armrests, so he resigned himself to a long, uncomfortable flight. A long, uncomfortable flight in which he’d have ample time to reflect on the discomfort still curdling in his stomach after yesterday’s conversation with his family.

The beer was meant to help settle his anxiety, but it seemed to be stirring things up in his belly. Louis buckled his seatbelt and closed his eyes, trying to tune out the fluorescent lights that lined the aisles, the incessant chatter filtering in from all around him, and the slightly stale air that filled his nostrils.

He’d been so excited about this trip. As soon as everything was booked (which was very shortly after he found the AirBnb), it had felt like a giant weight was lifted. He was free from the endless string of obligations that accompanied the Christmas season, free from pretending to be festive and cheerful when the entire scenario only made him want to hide under his covers until the new year.

Ever since he’d lost his mother, Christmas hadn’t really happened for Louis.

The rest of the world continued to observe the holiday the way they always did - tinsel and lights went up in the stores, and in his family’s house, and eventually his dad remarried, and Lynn brought with her her own traditions and expectations of what the holidays should be. But as far as Louis was concerned, that little spark of comfort and happiness he always felt in the center of his chest during the Christmas holiday, the spark that really encompassed the reason for all of it, had gone.

Avoiding the entire situation had seemed like heaven. It felt like finally, for once, he could part from the pull of dread that Christmas seemed to bring to his insides. And then he’d spoken to Lynn.

“I’m sorry, what? It’s loud in here. Angie, please, I’m on the phone,” she’d said. Louis’s youngest sister was in the background giggling about something - her voice faded as she apparently left the room.

“I, uh… I’m probably not making it to Christmas this year,” he’d said, only a slight tremor in his voice.

Lynn had been silent for several seconds.

“And why might that be?” Her voice was flat.

“I’m going on a trip,” he’d said. “To Greece. I booked it the other day.”

“You booked a trip to Greece.”

“Yes,” he said. “Look, it’s nothing personal.”

“Oh?”

“I love you all, you know I do,” Louis said. Her tone was so hard to read, and though he’d reminded himself numerous times before making the call that he was a grown adult with his own income who could spend Christmas however he wanted, pleading with her had made him feel small. “I just… this holiday. It’s hard.”

There were several more seconds of silence.

“I know,” she’d said, and her tone was gentler. “But Louis, you can’t run from yourself. And you certainly can’t run from your family.”

“I’m not running from anybody,” he’d said, gripping his phone more tightly. He was in an empty conference room at work, toying absently with one of the dry erase markers on the table, snapping the cap off and pressing it back on again and letting the satisfying, predictable clicking noise soothe his jumbled nerves.

“Okay,” she said. It sounded a bit sad. “Just be sure you’re here for New Year’s Day, yeah? We’ll save your gifts until then.”

“Will you tell dad? And the girls?”

“I don’t know, Louis…”

“Please?” he asked. It came out feeble, like a whisper. He screwed his eyes shut and set the marker back down on the table.

“Alright.”

Louis was shaken from his reverie by the plane vibrating slightly as it backed away from the airport. He opened his eyes and looked around - the sky outside the tiny plane window was already showing the early stages of sunset. Not so long ago, the days had seemed endless. There were hours upon hours of daylight left after the work day with which he could do any number of things. Now, at the end of December, it was dark before he left the office each day.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” came the pilot’s voice, “we thank you for flying with us today. We’re departing a few minutes early today in order to avoid some bumpy weather rolling over the Atlantic. Thank you for checking in for your flight in a timely manner.”

The plane took off, and the purple hues in the sky became richer and bolder the higher they flew, until they were completely engulfed in the clouds. And Louis tried his hardest to leave his anxiety in the strips of air that trailed behind the plane.  


* * *

  
When Louis boarded the hotel shuttle after finally landing in Santorini, his neck felt like it was entirely comprised of knots. He had a strange layer of grime on him, like the plane air had simply congealed against his skin. He’d been traveling for the better part of sixteen hours, and he hadn’t slept for much of it. Although he could already see the sparkling sea off in the distance, he wanted nothing so much as he wanted a shower and a bed, in precisely that order.

The only seat left on the shuttle (which was really just an exceptionally tiny bus) by the time he lugged his suitcase down the narrow aisle was next to a man who was wearing a Santa hat. He threw himself into the seat without sparing a second glance at the man, struggling for several minutes to wedge his boxy suitcase in between his knees so as not to block the aisle.

Once his luggage was settled, he started fiddling with his phone, trying to figure out if the international plan he paid for for the whole month would work or if he’d flushed thirty dollars down the toilet. He was engrossed in his phone’s settings as the bus started bumping down the brick road, the dazzling sunlight bouncing off his phone screen and sending strange patterns onto the ceiling. Suddenly, he felt the sensation creeping into his consciousness that someone was staring at him.

“Hi,” said the man in the Santa hat, grinning at Louis as he looked up. He had dimples, and bright green eyes, and brown curls that peeked out from under the white fur trim.

Louis swallowed. “Uh, hi.”

“First time in Greece?” asked the man, still smiling.

“Uh huh,” said Louis, brain still foggy from the entire day he’d spent in the air, unsure of why a stranger was speaking to him. In American English.

And, you know, maybe a little distracted. By other things.

“Mine too,” said the man. “I already love it.”

“You’ve seen more than just the inside of the airport?” asked Louis.

“Well, I’ve seen this bus,” said the man with another grin, “plus what’s outside it.” He gestured to the large window he sat next to. “What’s your name?”

“Louis,” he said, feeling as though his brain was still a few steps behind him.

“I’m Harry,” said the man, holding his hand out. Louis shook it.

“So what brings you here, then?” Harry asked. “During the holidays?”

Louis blinked. Harry appeared entirely oblivious to the fact that Louis was not in a talking mood. Shower, bed. Those were the only two words his brain seemed to understand.

“Just...needed a getaway, I suppose,” said Louis, eyes dropping back down to his blank phone screen.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry nod. “I know what you mean,” Harry said. Harry’s voice was deep and somehow smooth at the edges. It sounded like if Louis could touch it, it would feel like velvet.

Louis looked up at him again. The sun was shining directly through the window behind Harry, giving him a ridiculous Santa-shaped halo that made his features difficult to discern.

The bus rumbled to a stop and the driver stood up and beckoned them all forward. Louis waited for the passengers in front of him to disembark before wrestling his suitcase back out from between his thighs and standing up. He thought he heard Harry chuckle under his breath, but he didn’t look back to confirm his suspicions. When he exited the bus, he found himself standing on the cobblestone street on the very highest part of the caldera.

Before him, sloping gently down towards the sea, was an array of the beautiful white and blue buildings Louis had seen online. They looked exactly like he’d pictured them - pristine, but with their own special character. Each building seem carved into the hillside, artfully stacked on top of the one below it. There were dozens of vistas with glimmering pools, sun-soaked patios, and people milling about on the winding paths. And beyond it all, the sparkling Aegean sea.

For a moment, Louis couldn’t breathe. He felt like if he relaxed all of his bones and muscles, he might spill peacefully into the sea and drift there for the rest of the afternoon without a care in the world.

“Louis?” The deep velvet of Harry’s voice interrupted his reverie. Louis blinked, looked around, and noticed the rest of the van’s passengers were now following the bus driver down a steep, winding path. Harry had paused behind the rest of the group, watching him expectantly.

“The bus can’t make it down these paths,” Harry said. “We’ve got to go on foot from here.”

Louis nodded, grabbed the handle of his suitcase, and followed.

He couldn’t help but think that, though he was following a stranger he’d met ten minutes ago down a winding, centuries old path that might at any moment crumble and spill into the ocean below, he had never felt calmer.


	2. Chapter 2

What I say when I want to be enough  
What a beautiful day for making a break for it  
We'll find a way to pay for it  
Maybe from all the money we made razorblade stores  
Rent a racehorse and force a sponsor  
And start a concert, a complete diversion  
Start a mob and you can be quite certain  
We'll win, but not everyone will get out   
  
\- Twenty One Pilots, _Nico and the Niners_

* * *

“Hi down there!”

Louis, who had been dozing in a chaise lounge for the better part of two hours, started. His sunglasses has slid down to the tip of his nose while he slept, and the sun was shining directly into his face as it made its way across the sky.

“Louis!”

The words were coming from above him. Louis pushed his sunglasses back up to the bridge of his nose and looked up. Harry was peering at him from the roof of his room, dimples on full display.

“Oh, hi,” said Louis.

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Harry. His long legs dangled over the edge of the roof.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize our rooms were adjacent. I passed out as soon as I put my suitcase down.”

“I noticed,” said Harry.

“And yet you thought it was appropriate to interrupt a man’s jet lag nap?” Louis said with a smile.

Harry shrugged. “I’m getting hungry. And I hate eating meals alone. Do you want to go scope out some dinner?”

Louis stretched and yawned. “Sure,” he said around his yawn. “Why not.”

“Your enthusiasm is staggering,” said Harry.

“I’m always enthusiastic about dinner.”

“Is that why you still haven’t moved?”

Louis groaned, and Harry laughed, kicking his legs out and knocking his heels gently against the stone.

“Just let me shower,” said Louis, swinging his legs off the side of the chaise lounge and pressing himself off the soft cushions somewhat reluctantly. “I fell asleep so fast that I still have plane all over me.”

Twenty minutes later, Louis made his way up the winding path that forked off his patio, climbing the crumbling stone steps that connected his room with Harry’s. He emerged onto the roof of his room, which served as Harry’s patio. The sun had dipped slightly lower in the sky, teasing its orange hues against the surface of the water. Harry was snoozing, propped upright in a patio chair. Louis snorted.

“I thought you were hungry,” he said. Harry jerked his eyes open.

“I am,” he rasped.

Louis smirked.

“Let’s go,” Harry said, his velvet voice crackling with leftover sleep

As they walked the winding pathways in comfortable silence, letting the vestiges of their naps wear off and taking in their surroundings, they realized that Santorini was in no way a grid or any sort of logical pattern. When they started on a path, they had next to no idea where it would spit them out. At one point, they saw a lovely looking restaurant few rows below them, with umbrella seating on the patio overlooking the sea. But it took them three attempts to figure out how to get down to it.

When they finally figured it out and approached the host stand, a woman smiled and spoke to them in English. “Table for two?”

“You could tell by looking at us?” Harry asked with a dimpled smile, and the woman laughed.

“It is not unusual around here,” she said, and she led them down a row of tables to a small two-top at the edge of the patio.

Louis pushed his sunglasses up into his hair as he sat down. The purples that were beginning to spill across the sky behind Harry as the sun set over the ocean were breathtaking.

Harry stuck his nose in his menu immediately, and Louis glanced down at his own. There were small English phrases under the Greek ones, which Louis thought was unreasonably accommodating.

“I bet the Branzino is incredible,” said Harry.

“Fresh, I would hope,” Louis agreed.

When the waiter came over, he spoke to them in English. “Good evening, may I bring you something to drink?”

Louis glanced at Harry. “What kind of wine do you like?”

“All of them.”

Louis scanned the wine list. “Could we get a bottle of the, um.” He pointed at a bottle he couldn’t pronounce, about halfway down the “whites” column.

“Yes, I will be right back,” said their server.

Harry looked bemusedly at Louis. “Are you a wine connoisseur, then?”

“Oh hush,” said Louis, shaking his napkin out and laying it across his lap. “I liked the word.”

“What was it?”

“I can’t pronounce it!”

Harry laughed.

“So Harry,” said Louis, “What brings you to Santorini over Christmas?”

“Didn’t we cover this on the bus?”

“You asked me,” said Louis. “But I didn’t ask you.”

“Ah, right,” Harry said.

“Your Assyrtiko, gentleman,” said their server, appearing with a chilled bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Good timing,” said Harry.

Louis rolled his eyes as the server expertly removed the cork from their bottle and poured them each a taste. When they expressed their approval, he topped off their glasses and left the bottle on the table, shuffling away with their orders of hummus and Branzino.

“So? “ asked Louis, sipping his wine. Its slightly sweet aftertaste seemed to spread across the roof of his mouth.

“I came to Greece,” said Harry, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass, “because I lost my sister last month.”

Louis’s stomach seemed to drop into his shoes.

“Oh,” he said, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

Harry shook his head. “She’d been sick for a while, but. She was my best friend. And now Christmas just isn’t ever going to be what it was.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I’ve always loved Christmas,” said Harry, “and I didn’t want this to ruin it. So I decided I’d start some of my own traditions.”

Louis tilted his head. “These things have a way of permeating everything,” he said, “but I admire your efforts.”

Harry frowned. “I can still enjoy the holidays,” he said. “I removed myself from all of my usual surroundings. I’ve got no associations here. I can start fresh. Make new traditions.”

Louis took another sip of his wine. “Christmas hummus is definitely a new one for me,” he offered.

There was something about Harry that made it strangely easy to talk to him. He’d met this man less than five hours ago, and yet they were talking about a topic Louis had spent the past several years avoiding like the bubonic plague. Even when those he was closest to tried to pry a conversation from him, like Niall or his family, he’d essentially run screaming from the room. But with Harry, the tightness in his chest that usually happened when he danced too close to the topic of his mother didn't come. In fact, if anything, he felt like his chest was loosening as words spilled from him without his conscious decision.

“Christmas is always hard for me for the same reason,” he said, “except it was my mom, not my sister.”

Harry swallowed visibly and looked as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Louis had always thought that losing a close family member was like becoming part of a club that no one wanted to be in. Only those in the club knew that there were no words in any language that could come close to being a balm for the pain of it all, and sometimes it was best not to pretend that there were. Sometimes it was best to just express, in those tiny ways, that you understood just how deep that scarring went and acknowledge that it was the worst thing in the entire world. And that no matter how good someone’s intentions, they would never be able to repair even a piece of the damage.

Yes, Louis thought. Harry understood.

“I’m sorry, Louis,” Harry said finally.

Louis just nodded.

“Anyway,” Louis said, picking up his wine glass again, “Cheers to a Greek Christmas.”

“Cheers,” Harry replied, dimples on display as he knocked his glass gently against Louis’s. They both drank, the chill from the wine spreading pleasantly through Louis’s blood.

As a runner dropped a plate of the most delicious looking hummus Louis had ever seen on the table, along with a basket of pita, Louis realized with a start that he now knew something very personal about Harry, but no basic facts about him whatsoever.

“So,” Louis said, “Harold. Where are you from?”

“My name’s not Harold.”

“All the same.”

“Baltimore,” said Harry. “About 40 minutes outside of it, actually. My aunt and uncle have a horse farm, and I help out on the weekends in exchange for them letting me stay there.”

“So you’re an equestrian?”

“Hardly,” Harry laughed. “I can barely stand on my own two feet some days. I just take care of basic maintenance type stuff.”

Louis had a sudden vision of Harry leaning against a fence, plaid flannel shirt hanging open to reveal what Louis had every reason to believe was a broad chest (even though he had only seen Harry in a v-neck t-shirt so far), hips popped in tight ripped jeans…

“That’s neat,” Louis said hurriedly, tearing a pita in half and dipping it into the hummus.

“How about you?” Harry asked.

“Huh?”

“Where are you from?”

“Oh, Philly,” said Louis, chewing thoughtfully on his pita. “Damn, that is good hummus.”

“Have you always lived in Philly?”

“Pretty much,” said Louis. “My family moved from one end of the city to the other after my dad remarried. But we’ve always been in that general area.”

“Your dad remarried?”

“Yeah, her name’s Lynn,” said Louis. “She’s great with the girls.”

“How about with you?”

“Am I being interviewed?” Louis laughed.

Harry shook his head and dragged a piece of pita across the dish of hummus. “Sorry,” he said, the pita halfway to his mouth, “I just find you really interesting.”

“Me?” Louis felt his face heat up slightly. “I’m just about the least interesting person you could ever meet, honestly.”

Harry paused, gazing at Louis with those strikingly green eyes. “You are so wrong,” he said finally.

They fell silent for a few moments, the sun dipping lower towards the horizon and washing the atmosphere in a golden glow. They caught flutters of conversation from the tables nearby, some in English, some in a melodious Greek. The tinkling of silverware punctuated the air.

“So, Harold,” said Louis, helping himself to another pita. “What do you do? Besides wrangle horses?”

Harry’s face split into a grin. “I feel like we’re on a date,” he said. “I hope that’s not weird for me to say. You could very well be straight, or with someone, or both. It just feels like this is the way I’d be trying to get to know someone if we were on a date.”

Louis’s stomach fluttered. “I see what you mean,” he said. “And for the record, I’m not. Straight. Or with someone.”

Harry’s smile became gentler, his expression settling into something more focused and contemplative.

“Good to know,” he said. “And I’m in research. I work at the National Aquarium, mostly with endangered species.”

Louis’s stomach fluttered again. “And you say I’m interesting.”

Harry ducked his head - the first time Louis had seen him anything close to bashful.

“I studied biology in college and I took a special liking to endangered marine animals,” Harry said. “People don’t think about how their actions affect the ecosystems in the ocean, because it’s harder to see the effects in your day to day life.”

Louis gazed out over the sunset streaked water. It was easy to forget that there were living things in there, and that it wasn’t just there to provide the most beautiful backdrop for dinner that Louis had ever seen.

“That makes sense,” he said.

The server returned at that moment with two plates of Branzino, accompanied by rice pilaf and cucumber salad. He topped off their wine glasses, set the bottle back on the table, and said, “Enjoy!”

“Oh god,” Harry said as the server walked away, “This looks incredible.”

Louis had to agree - the fish looked and smelled delightfully buttery.

Their conversation dissolved into their dinner, and Louis did his best to savor each moment spent in the light sea breeze, each bite of his incredible meal, and each time he accidentally locked eyes with the man sitting across from him.

Louis had not felt this light and relaxed in quite some time. In fact, if he allowed himself to get carried away in the moment, he could almost forget it was Christmastime.  


* * *

“Did you exchange money at the airport?” Louis asked. “I did, but I don’t think I got enough. I’m going to need to find an ATM.”

“I have some,” said Harry, holding the door to the shop open for Louis.

On their wanderings back from dinner, they’d stumbled upon a convenience store and decided to pick up a few bottles of wine to sip on before bed.

“Did you like the one we got with dinner?” asked Harry, peering into a fridge as Louis wandered down the adjacent aisle.

“Yeah, that was good,” said Louis. “I’m going to grab one of these reds, too.”

Harry paid for their purchases with a smile and a wad of cash - neither of them knew any Greek and the woman behind the counter didn’t seem to know English, so there was a lot of polite smiling and nodding as they collected their wine and left the shop. The sun had fully set by then, but instead of street lights, there seemed to be lights along the edges of the sidewalks every few feet. It created a dazzling picture as they gazed out over the caldera.

“It reduces light pollution,” said Harry. “I”m not sure if that’s why they did it. They might’ve just done it so as not to ruin the landscape with street lamps. But it has that added benefit.”

“Wonder if we’ll be able to see any stars,” Louis said.

They wound their way back to the hotel and planted themselves on the edge of Harry’s patio and Louis’s roof, their legs dangling over the side. Louis slipped off his shoes and let them tumble onto his patio below them.

“Oh, shoot,” Harry said. “We need an opener for this. And some glasses. I’ll be right back.” He pushed himself up and made his way down the path, past Louis’s room, toward the reception area.

Louis tried his best not to think too hard about anything while Harry was gone, focusing instead on the light breeze off the sea and how it felt against his skin. There was definitely something between them - exactly what it was, or would turn into, Louis didn’t know. They were both vulnerable - it was easy to overthink whether they should keep their guards up or let things happen.

But Louis didn’t want to overthink it. He wanted to let himself feel good and warm and fluttery inside. He wanted to let himself be distracted by something happy. That was the whole reason he’d come, wasn’t it? The whole reason he wouldn’t be with his dad and Lynn and Steph and Angie on Christmas morning.

“We’re in luck!” Harry’s voice carried up from below. He took the steps two at a time and returned to Louis’s side, setting down two paper cups and a waiter’s wine key.

“Nice work,” Louis said.

“It was all Penelope,” said Harry. “At the front desk. She’s an angel.”

Harry popped the cork out of the bottle with a practiced ease. At Louis’s raised eyebrow, he said, “I used to be a waiter.”

Louis laughed, accepting the plastic cup of wine Harry handed him.

“So. Louis,” said Harry, hitching one of his legs up and folding it in front of his body so that he was turned slightly more towards Louis. “What do you do?”

Louis smiled into his wine. “It’s not as exciting as your job,” he said. “I’m a writer at an advertising agency.”

“That’s exciting,” Harry said earnestly. “Have you written anything I would have heard of?”

“Probably not,” said Louis. “I’ve done a lot of local campaigns recently. Last year I worked on a commercial for Hershey that played nationwide during the holidays. So you might’ve seen that once or twice.”

“Wow,” Harry said. His face was so open and earnest. It was almost hard to look at him.

“It’s really nothing that impressive,” said Louis.

“Yes it is,” said Harry. “I could never do anything like that. The pressure would drive me crazy.”

Louis shrugged. “There was a whole team of us on it.”

“Do you like it?”

This was the kind of question that Louis would normally breeze past by saying “Yes, sure, I like it as much as anyone else likes their job.” But he’d already found himself opening up to Harry more in the few hours they’d known each other than he had to anyone else in his life in quite a long time.

“Sometimes,” he finally said. “I like that I get to be creative. That’s really what I’m passionate about. But I don’t know if it makes me feel fulfilled.”

Harry didn’t pry or press him to elaborate. He simply stayed quiet, sipping his wine and gazing out at the sea. It felt like all of his attention was on Louis, but not in an overwhelming or anxiety-inducing way. Like he was simply giving Louis the space to express whatever he needed to. The warmth from Harry’s body seemed to radiate towards him in the cool breeze.

“I don’t wake up every day feeling like I’m making the world better,” Louis said. “I mean, saving endangered animals. That’s a legitimate reason to get up every day. That’s making a difference in the world. I’m just making rich CEO’s even richer, when you boil it down.”

Harry nodded. “You don’t have to be rescuing orphans and puppies to be making a difference in the world, though,” he said quietly. “Not everyone uses their work to promote causes that matter to them. Some people do it in other ways.”

Louis swallowed, the wine coating his throat pleasantly. The breeze had gotten cooler since the sun went down, and he scooted closer to Harry’s warmth before he consciously realized what he was doing. Harry didn’t seem to mind, though. Just pressed his thigh gently against Louis’s and let their shoulders knock together.

“My best friend Niall is like that,” said Louis. “Always dumping his spare change in those Salvation Army buckets.”

Harry nodded again. “Sure, there’s that. And that’s great,” he said. “But there are other ways. Smaller ways. Things you probably do to brighten people’s days that you don’t even realize. Sometimes even just smiling at someone can mean the difference between them crying in a broom cupboard all afternoon about their dead sister versus having the strength to give the afternoon presentation on sea turtles.”

Harry wasn’t looking at him, but Louis could feel his shoulder quivering from where it rested against Louis’s. Taking a chance, Louis slid his arm around Harry and pulled him closer. Harry leaned into him immediately, his weight a comforting, stabilizing presence. He could feel him sigh as some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to lessen, given the way he melted into Louis.

“You were wearing a Santa hat on the bus,” said Louis after several moments of silence. “Do you always travel festively?”

Harry snorted. Louis couldn’t see his face, but he could hear him smiling. “Of course not. Only around Christmas, which is clearly the most superior of the capitalist holidays.”

“Of course,” said Louis, the scent of Harry’s hair momentarily distracting him. It smelled like the salt from the air, like leftover shampoo, and like something unique that Louis couldn’t quite place.

“Christmas is just the absolute best,” said Harry. “I love the way it makes everything more colorful and bright and happy. Fourth of July really can’t say that, can it?”

“It can if you count the fireworks.”

“Touché, I suppose. But you don’t get gifts on the Fourth of July. Or better yet, get to give people gifts.”

“No one likes giving better than receiving, Harry,” Louis said.

There was a beat, and then they both burst into laughter.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Louis said. “Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Harry replied.

“I could hear you thinking it.”

“Oh really?” Harry snickered. “What am I thinking now?”

“You’re thinking about how hilarious I am.”

“Well, that’s true,” said Harry. “But I’m also thinking that both giving and receiving can be great. What matters is the person you’re doing the giving and receiving with.”

Louis grinned despite himself. “You mean having, and giving, and sharing, and receiving?”

“A _Friends_ reference,” Harry sighed. “I knew you were a good egg.”

They talked until the wine bottle was empty and the breeze had gotten almost too cold to bear, despite the fact that they were by then wrapped around each other like a couple of koalas.

“I should probably get some sleep,” Harry said, lifting his head. When he raised his eyes to meet Louis’s, their faces were just inches apart. It would’ve been so easy to just lean in and close the gap. He was sure Harry was thinking the same thing. There was energy buzzing around them as they looked at each other, and Harry’s lips looked pleasantly plush, just slightly chapped from the wind. Louis found himself wanting to soothe them with his own.

Harry began to untangle himself before Louis could think on it any further. He stood up and held out a hand for Louis, who took it and used it to pull himself into a standing position.

Harry reached up and brushed a lock of Louis’s hair away from his face. “Thank you for spending time with me today. It was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

“Me too,” Louis said, swallowing hard around the sudden lump in his throat. “Let’s be sure and do it again.”

“Let’s,” said Harry, smiling and dropping his hand. “Goodnight, Louis.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Louis turned and made his way down the steps to his room, pausing to extricate his key from his pocket. When he reached his door, he paused and looked up.

The sky wasn’t completely alight with stars, but there were definitely a few sprinkled here and there, doing their best to twinkle brightly. Louis took a deep breath of the ocean air, then let himself into his room to sleep for as long as he could physically manage.

* * *

The next morning, Louis woke to the sun dancing around the edges of the faded curtains in his room, and the marimba tone on his phone positively blaring.

He groaned to himself and rolled over to grab it, clumsily tapping the screen to reveal an incoming Facetime call from Niall.

He accepted the call and rolled back over, holding the phone above his face. Niall’s smiling, sunglasses-clad face filled his screen for a moment, and then he frowned.

“You’re still in bed?”

“I was doing what the kids call ‘sleeping,’” said Louis. “You should try it sometime.” Louis squinted at his own image in the corner of his phone screen. His hair was sticking up on one side and there were red imprints on the side of his face from his pillow. Lovely.

“Well it’s 7am in Orlando,” said Niall, “and I’m in the most magical place on Earth.” He spun around, and Louis could see the makings of Main Street, USA behind him, complete with Cinderella’s Castle.

“Nice,” said Louis, “I was hoping you hadn’t been crushed to death by the sheer amount of human flesh yet.”

Niall wrinkled his nose. “That’s gross. Plus, we’re staying on the property so we got to come in early. Theo made a beeline for the teacups the second we got through the gates.”

“Theo doesn’t mess around,” Louis yawned. “I like it.”

“Seriously, how are you still in bed?”

“I’m on vacation!”

“Louis, you’re in Greece. If it’s 7am here, that means it’s gotta be what, 2pm there?”

Louis sat up abruptly, his head spinning slightly.

“You’re right. I have to go, Niall, I have to get out of bed.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “You do that. Call me back when you can - I want to hear about how Greece is. Once you’re conscious for long enough to actually experience it.”

“Ha, ha. Bye Nialler.”

Louis hung up and slid out of bed, rifling through his suitcase. He emerged with a clean pair of swim trunks, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, and quickly assembled himself and took care of his tooth brushing and face washing.

He walked out onto his patio to find a curly haired man in his hot tub.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up,” said Harry.

“You don’t have to be bashful,” said Louis. “Make yourself at home.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s past lunchtime.”

“Ever heard of jet lag?”

“Come and join me,” said Harry.

“In my own hot tub, how very kind of you.”

All the same, there was a chill in the air despite the bright-as-ever sunshine. So Louis, trying not to think too hard about the pudge he’d put on around his middle from too many trips to Carmelo’s with Niall, stripped off his shirt and sweatshirt and slid into the hot, bubbly water.

Harry smiled at him lazily. The hair at his temples had gotten even curlier in the steam from the tub “Hi,” he said.

“Hello,” said Louis.

“What’s new?”

“Since last night?” said Louis, stretching. “I’m more well rested, that’s for sure.”

“I would hope so. You missed half the day.”

“I didn’t miss it. I just experienced it in my own way.”

Harry’s laugh exploded out of him like a bark. It made a pleasant spark spiral up Louis’s spine. Or maybe that was just the jacuzzi jets.

“So I was thinking,” said Harry. “If you can manage to get yourself out of bed tomorrow, there’s an all day catamaran tour.”

“Oh?”

“It takes you all around the island and stops at the different beaches on the other side,” Harry said, his head bowed. “It might be fun. But it leaves at 10am.”

“That sounds neat,” said Louis. “Although, can I ask you something sort of personal?”

Harry looked up and met his eyes.

“Why did you come on a vacation by yourself if you’re so determined to spend all of your time with me?”

Harry’s face crumpled, and Louis immediately felt his anxiety creeping back into his stomach.

“Not like that,” he said quickly. “I love hanging out with you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Louis charged on, despite the blush he could feel spreading across his cheeks. “I thought I’d be spending this whole week alone with my thoughts, and instead you’ve made me feel genuinely happy. And I’ve only known you for a day. I’m just curious.”

Harry’s expression softened, but there was a wrinkle between his brows where he furrowed them. Louis pushed one of his ankles in between Harry’s under the water and gently grazed his foot.

“I don’t know,” he said. And then, in a very small voice, “I’m scared to be alone.”

Louis frowned. “But -”

“I know I came here alone,” said Harry. “But in the moment I thought that being alone here would make me feel better than being alone at home. But now I’m not so sure.”

Louis nodded. He withdrew his legs. “I see. That make sense.”

This, Louis thought. This was exactly why he couldn’t let himself get carried away. He knew it in his gut yesterday, but had chosen to ignore it. And now, here he was. Already getting attached to the charming, vulnerable, lovely-smelling man sitting across from him. When Harry just needed someone to be near, because he didn’t want to be alone.

And Louis understood. He understood all too well - being alone when you were going through something like what Harry was going through was indeed dangerous. But Louis didn’t want to be someone’s crutch. He wanted Harry to want to spend time with him because he liked him. And not just because he needed someone.

Harry was watching him with a frown. He didn’t seem to realize what he’d said that had triggered Louis to withdraw.

“The catamaran tour sounds awesome,” said Louis, hitching a smile back onto his face. “Let’s do it.”

Louis’s mind was swimming between “This is your vacation, your time to relax” and “You wouldn’t have made it through all alone, when it was you. He needs you.” The back and forth was making him feel nauseated.

And then Harry said, “Hey,” and slid closer. He hooked a finger under Louis’s chin and gently tilted his face up. “Is it okay that I like spending time with you? I can leave you alone, if you’d rather have space. That is why you came here. I get that.”

Harry’s green eyes were searching his own.

“No,” Louis said, his throat suddenly dry. “No, don’t leave me alone.”

Harry nodded, but didn’t stop searching Louis’s eyes. Louis simply stared back, trying to untangle the mysteries behind Harry’s irises.

After a moment, Harry dropped his hand and settled back into his previous seat. Louis missed his touch - it seemed to calm all of his nerve endings and trigger something in his body that years of anxiety meds had not yet managed to do.

He tangled his legs back up with Harry’s, who seemed to relax at the action. He wondered if his proximity had the same effect on Harry.

“The day is young, Harold,” said Louis, voice still a bit scratchy. “What shall we do?”

“Whatever you want to do.”

“I wouldn’t mind a snack,” Louis said. “I haven’t eaten since dinner.”

They spent most of the afternoon in the hot tub pruning themselves. They had sandwiches delivered to them by Penelope, the front desk angel, and they opened their bottle of Assyrtiko from the night before.

“This is my favorite place in the entire world,” Harry said at one point through a mouthful of sandwich. “Despite the lack of Christmas decorations.”

“Santorini, or this hot tub specifically?”

“This hot tub specifically.”

Louis laughed.  


* * *

When they boarded their catamaran the next morning, they realized that they’d essentially signed themselves up for a quadruple date. Louis couldn’t figure out if it was a good or a bad thing.

They seated themselves on one of the cushioned benches that lined the boat while Darius and Leo, the captain and first mate of the little boat, walked them through some basic safety procedures.

A couple that seemed to be Italian sat near them, hands clasped together, woman practically in the man’s lap. An older couple sat towards the other end of the boat dressed in winter coats. Which, Louis thought, was a tad dramatic for a 65-degree day.

“Please enjoy your time today,” said Darius. “Our first stop will be the white beach. You can only access by boat, so it should be a treat.”

Louis hummed, and as the boat’s motor started up and Leo tightened the sails, the gentle side-to-side rocking became slightly less pronounced.

Harry’s arm slid around Louis’s shoulders, and Louis’s fingers tingled as he leaned into it happily.

They stayed that way for several minutes. Louis almost felt lulled back to sleep by the gentle sway of the boat and by Harry’s strong, warm body supporting his own, even despite how much sleep he’d managed to get during the past few days.

They drove out around the side of the island, towards the back side that they’d flown in on. After about twenty minutes, in which Louis definitely did not doze off at all, he could see the white beach - the sand was positively blinding in the sunlight.

He pushed himself off of Harry with a groan, and Harry laughed.

“Hey there,” said Harry, grinning.

“I didn’t go anywhere, Harold.”

“Oh, my mistake.” He passed Louis a flute of champagne.

“They handed these out while you were…not sleeping.”

“Oh good, this will help me wake up,” Louis said with a wink, though he wasn’t sure Harry could see it since they were both wearing sunglasses. He took a sip and smacked his lips.

“Classy,” said Harry.

“Always.”

The boat motor hummed to a stop and Leo dropped the sails and the anchor - they were roughly twenty yards from the beach.

“Please feel welcome to leave your items on the boat,” said Leo. “We encourage you to have a swim, visit the beach, or you may stay here. The boat will depart again in one hour.”

Louis and Harry looked at each other.

“So we’re swimming to the beach,” said Louis.

“Obviously.”

Louis stood up on the cushioned bench and pulled his sweatshirt over his head. Harry looked bemusedly at him for a second, then scrambled to do the same. Once they were both down to their trunks, Louis pulled Harry up on the bench next to him. He didn’t let go of his hand as he said, “Three...two...one….”

They leapt over the side of the boat together, crashing into the crystal clear blue water with all the grace of a herd of elephants.

Louis was momentarily submerged in a chilly sort of alien planet. The water was so clear, he could see twenty, maybe even thirty feet below him. Schools of colorful fish swam by.

He popped his head above the surface, gasping and smiling. Harry’s hand was still clutched in his, and within seconds his curly head popped up too.

“This is incredible,” Harry said, breathing hard.

“Race you to the beach,” said Louis, and he took off without another word, using his arms and legs to propel himself through the water in what he was not at all sure was an official swim stroke.

When he turned his head to breathe, he could hear Harry splashing along in his wake.

After a minute, he could see the sandy ocean floor climbing towards him. He kicked until it was within arm’s reach, and then stood up, looking around wildly.

Harry was already standing on the shore, dripping and shivering and grinning in all his dimpled glory.

“How?” Louis shouted. “How could you possibly have done that? Do you have some kind of turbo engine hidden somewhere?”

“I’m secretly Michael Phelps,” said Harry.

“Right,” said Louis. “I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with your gigantic legs.”

Harry lunged toward him and Louis screamed, splashing through the surf to try to get away. They ended up in a tangle of limbs on the wet sand, laughing hysterically.

As their breathing slowed, Louis began to realize just how closely they were wound. Their arms were wrapped around each other, and Harry’s hair was tangled in his fingers. Louis had his knee slotted between Harry’s. He had no recollection of doing either of these things.

Harry turned his head and pressed his lips right up against Louis’s ear. “What do you want to bet Mr. and Mrs. Eskimo are staying on the boat?”

Harry’s whispered breath against his ear sent shivers rolling down his spine that had nothing to do with the swim he’d just taken.

“I’d say you’ll probably win that one,” Louis whispered back

Harry hummed. “What should my prize be?” .

“I’ll give you ten Euros,” said Louis.

Harry paused, and Louis could hear him inhale sharply. “Would you give me a kiss?”

Louis found Harry’s eyes, green and wide, though slightly blurred given how close their faces were.

“Yeah,” he said. “Alright, Harold. You can have a kiss. But only if you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Prove it.”

Harry lifted his head and gazed out towards the water as Louis let his fingers slide out of Harry’s hair.   
  
“Ha!” he shouted, smiling triumphantly. “Pucker up, my friend.”

Louis laughed as he lifted his head as well. There were Mr. and Mrs. Eskimo, bundled up in their coats and sitting exactly where they had been when they had left the boat.

“I’m not sure if that’s how to get someone to kiss you,” said Louis. “By demanding that they pucker up and then calling them ‘friend.’”

“But you already promised.”

“So that means I don’t deserve to be wooed?” Louis smiled as he said it, his eyelids fluttering involuntarily as Harry’s face came closer again.

“Of course you deserve to be wooed,” Harry whispered against his lips. “Why do you think I asked you to come on a boat cruise with me?”

Because you didn’t want to be alone, Louis couldn’t help but think.

When Harry pressed his lips fully against Louis’s, he couldn’t help but let out all the breath he’d been holding in his lungs. Harry’s lips lit sparks behind his eyelids. They turned his brain into mush and his muscles into jelly. Like Louis’s anxieties were melting out of his pores and evaporating in the salty air.

It was only a quick press, maybe a few seconds, and then Harry pulled back.

“Okay?” he whispered.

Louis nodded. “Okay.” He leaned in for another.  


* * *

  
Leo and Darius, it turned out, knew how to keep the champagne coming. And Louis and Harry spent the entire day drinking their bubbly and racing to the red sand beach and the black sand beach in turn. (Louis only won one of three and was forced to pepper Harry’s face with kisses as his grand prize. Now that that door had been opened, it was almost like he couldn’t stop. He loved the way Harry made him feel.)

After they’d had their fill of the beaches, they drove around to the caldera side of the island and anchored the boat amongst a gathering of volcanic rock, a decent ways out in the water. The sun had started to sink in the sky, and the beginnings of the lights that lit the paths in Santorini became visible. It looked as though the whole island was glowing.

Darius and Leo served them a dinner of wine, barbecue pork chops, Greek salad, bread, tzatziki, eggplant salad, and fruit. They ate spread out at a picnic blanket on the boat deck with the other couples. (It turned out that Mr. and Mrs. Eskimo were from South America, which marginally explained their intolerance to weather below 70 degrees.

“So,” said Louis, dipping a slice of bread in tzatziki, “Is the hot tub still your favorite place in the world?”

Harry smirked at him. “Oh yes. You’ll see why, when we get back.”

Louis shivered and felt heat spiral down through his bones and into his fingers and toes.

“That wasn’t part of the bet.”

“Oh, this part is entirely voluntary,” said Harry, sipping his wine. “You’ll be able to opt out if you so choose.”

“I see,” said Louis.

“In fact,” said Harry, watching him closely, “you’re free to opt out now, if you’d prefer.”

Louis watched as the light from the boat reflected on the surface of the water cast shadows over Harry’s face.

“I appreciate the offer,” said Louis, “but I can assure you that I’m quite happy to participate.”

Harry dropped his bravado suddenly and smiled at Louis, his eyes soft. “Me too,” he said.

Louis tangled his fingers with Harry’s as they sipped their wine and the boat rocked them slowly up and down.  


* * *

  
“So, this is the esteemed hot tub I’ve heard so much about,” said Louis as they arrived back on his patio, after having disembarked the boat, tipped Darius and Leo generously, and Ubered as close as they could back to the hotel.

“Indeed!” said Harry. “You may recognize it as one you booked online.”

“Ah, yes,” said Louis, “It did look familiar.”

“Let me show you,” said Harry, walking towards Louis, “why I like this hot tub so much.”

Louis meant to say something witty, but he completely forgot what it was as Harry connected their mouths. He gently brought his hand up and caressed Louis’s jaw while moving his tongue gently along the seam of his lips. Louis let his mouth open and chased Harry’s tongue with his own - everything was soft and wet and perfect, and Louis didn’t have the strength to open his eyes until he felt Harry’s hands tugging at the hem of his sweatshirt. Breaking apart, he raised his arms to let Harry pull it over his head.

Harry gathered him back up in his arms as soon as his torso was bare and began running his hands up and down Louis’s shoulders and biceps, fingers brushing the thin skin at the crook of his elbows, down to his wrists and back up again.

“Hi,” said Louis as Harry’s hands glided gently down his back.

“Hi,” said Harry, pressing his lips against Louis’s.

Louis tugged at Harry’s sweatshirt, and Harry grinned and backed away so that Louis could remove it. When Harry’s skin was on display in the moonlight, he took Louis’s hand and led him to the hot tub, turning on the lights and jets with his other hand as he climbed over the side.

Louis sat with his legs crossed, body turned completely towards Harry. Harry sat in one of the corners, his broad, bare chest completely spread out under Louis’s hands. 

“Hi,” said Harry.

Louis pressed his lips gently against Harry’s, then pulled back.

“So far, I’m really enjoying this hot tub,” he said, smiling.

Harry’s eyes lingered on his lips for a moment. “I hope you know how special you are,” he said.

Louis just watched him.

Harry swallowed visibly. “You act like you’re completely unaware of how incredible you are. How thoughtful, and introspective, and genuinely great. I’ve seen it and I’ve only known you for a couple days.”

Louis shook his head softly. “I’m just me,” he said. “I’m just Louis Tomlinson, average American male with anxiety disorder and a complete lack of understanding about the meaning of life.”

“Tomlinson,” Harry repeated, tracing his fingers along the sides of Louis’s ribcage in the warm water.

“What?”

“That’s your full name,” said Harry. “Louis Tomlinson. I feel like I’ve learned so much about you, but yet somehow I didn’t know your last name.”

Louis shrugged. “You do know a lot about me,” he said. “I’ve said things to you that it took me years to say to my best friend. Hell, some of it I still haven’t said to my therapist.”

Harry gave him a kiss. “Styles,” he said softly.

“What?”

“My name is Harry Styles.”

Louis smiled as he leaned in to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Nice to meet you, Harry Styles,” he whispered in Harry’s ear.

Harry gripped Louis’s shoulders gently and pushed him back, so that they were arm’s distance apart.

“I want you to hear me,” said Harry. “Everything you think about yourself is untrue. You are the furthest from average. Your mind is fascinating, and I never know what you’re going to say next. You may well have anxiety, but you carry yourself as though you’re confident in everything you do. And as far as understanding the meaning of life…”

Harry slid his hands down Louis’s arms to his hands and tangled their fingers together.

“I think you’ve got a pretty good handle on it, personally.”

Louis couldn’t bear it any longer. He flung one of his thighs over Harry’s lap and straddled him, taking his face in his hands and kissing him deeply. His fingers wound gently through Harry’s sea-crunchy curls, breaking apart any knots they came across.

When Louis came up to breathe, he said, “I’m really glad I met you.” It came out so softly that he wasn’t even sure Harry had heard him over the soft roar of the water jets.

Harry’s hands came to rest on his lower back when he said, “You have no idea, Louis Tomlinson.”   
  



	3. Chapter 3

When it's all gone, something carries on  
And it's not morbid at all  
Just when nature’s had enough of you  
  
When my blood stops, someone else's will not  
When my head rolls off, someone else's will turn  
And while I'm alive, I'll make tiny changes to earth

\- Frightened Rabbit, _Head Rolls Off_

* * *

It only took them about thirty minutes to move their exploration from the hot tub to Harry’s room. Louis had Harry pressed against the inside of the door, their trunks dripping onto the carpet, as he scrutinized Harry’s mouth with his tongue.

He pressed his tongue against Harry’s and slid his hand to Harry’s bum at the same time, and Harry gave a little gasp. Louis wanted to make it happen again, so he ground his hips forward while he closed his teeth gently around Harry’s lower lip.

“Louis,” Harry whispered.

Harry spun them around and pulled Louis towards the bed by his wrists. They collapsed on top of the comforter, despite the fact that their shorts were still soaking wet from the hot tub.

“Your bed,” Louis said in between kisses. “We’re getting your bed all wet.”

“Don’t care,” said Harry.

Louis’s blood was singing as Harry continued to assault his mouth and run his hands along Louis’s body. He slid his hands under the waistband of Louis’s trunks and gripped the skin of his bum, sending goosebumps up Louis’s arms.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asked.

“I-I don’t know,” said Louis, overwhelmed with heat and skin and Harry.

Harry removed his hands from Louis’s swim trunks and cradled him with one arm, sliding the other arm around to the front of his body to grip his cock through his clothes.

At first, his touch sent waves of pleasure up through Louis’s veins, like fire. He nearly got lost in the sensation of Harry feeling out his shape.

But then, suddenly, the fire in Louis’s veins turned ice cold. All of his insecurities came rushing back at once. They were screaming at him so loudly, he was surprised Harry couldn’t hear them.

He squirmed. “Harry, wait.”

Harry removed his hand immediately, as though he’d been burned.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Did I-”

“No,” said Louis. “I don’t - I don’t know what happened. I just.”

Louis was breathing hard. It felt like his heart was beating out of control. He screwed up his eyes.

“Louis,” Harry said, circling his wrists gently with his hands. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “I’m just -”

Harry hesitated, then he pulled Louis into his body. Louis’s face was pressed into the crook of Harry’s neck.

Harry ran his open palm slowly up Louis’s back. “In and out,” he said. The rumble in Harry’s chest from his voice was soothing against Louis’s rioting brain. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I won’t hurt you.”

Louis shook his head against Harry’s shoulder. “I know,” he said.

After a few more trips of Harry’s palm up and down his spine, a few more deep breaths to settle his lungs, he raised his head. Harry’s eyes were wide with worry.

“What happened?”

Louis shook his head.

“Louis, please? I’m so sorry.”

“You have no reason to be sorry.”

“I clearly upset you.”

“No,” said Louis. “I upset myself. My brain just does that sometimes. Ever since -” 

He cut himself off. The fire was back in his belly, but this time it was from embarrassment. He could feel it spreading up through his chest.

“I’m sorry,” said Louis. “I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

Harry just looked at him sadly. “I don’t want you to be sorry,” Harry said. “I just want to help.”

“You - you needed me to help you,” Louis said. “But I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Louis said, pushing himself off the bed and gathering his sweatshirt from the floor.

“Louis, wait,” said Harry, his voice breaking. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Louis twisted the doorknob and slipped through the door before Harry had a chance to say anything else. Tears welled in his eyes as he tried to navigate the path back down to his room.

When he finally managed to get his own door open, he threw his clothes on the floor and laid in his bed for ages, staring at the ceiling and trying not to cry.

Harry could’ve been something great. The first great thing that had happened to Louis in ages, really. But he couldn’t be strong enough for both of them. Especially not at Christmas.

* * *

The next morning, Louis blinked his heavy eyelids open with some trepidation. His body knew before his brain had fully awoken that something was off. And then the night before came rushing back to him. How he’d had an anxiety attack in front of Harry. How he’d broken and crumbled and all of the walls he’d spent years building for himself after his mom died were lying in pieces all around him.

His phone started blaring again, but apparently he’d forgotten to plug it in in his fit of misery. The sound was coming from somewhere in the bedsheets. Louis tore them apart until he found it, and then swiped to answer an incoming Facetime from Niall.

“Happy birthday!” he said, his smiling face filling up the entire screen.

“Thanks, Nialler,” said Louis. His voice came out so scratchy that his words were barely audible. He cleared his throat

“Yikes,” said Niall, “You’re not sick on your birthday, are you?”

“Nah,” said Louis, clearing his throat again. “Just sleepy.”

“Well, that’s good. So Greece is nice?”

Something large and heavy dropped into Louis’s stomach.

“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly. “Really beautiful. Enchanting. Makes me feel more at ease than I have in a while.”

“Considering you’ve been in bed every time I’ve called you, I’d say that’s true.”

“Why can’t a man catch up on his sleep without you giving him a hard time, Niall?” Louis smiled, but apparently it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What is wrong?” said Niall.

“What do you mean?”

“Something is obviously wrong. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Louis said, “I’m just tired.”

Niall squinted at him. “I don’t believe you.”

“What would be wrong? I’m in like, the most beautiful place ever.”

Niall shrugged. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Nothing is wrong, Niall.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

There was a pause while Niall stared at Louis some more.

“Stop it,” said Louis, hiding his face behind a pillow. “I’m hanging up on you.”

“Only if you promise to go do something fun for your birthday, and turn that frown upside down.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “There’s no frown. But okay, I promise.”

“Good. Have fun, birthday boy!” Niall’s grin filled his screen, and then the call disconnected.

* * *

Louis could hardly remember a lonelier birthday. Being born on Christmas Eve meant that his birthday had lost just as much of its dazzle as Christmas itself had during the past few years, but usually Niall and his sisters would find small ways to make it special for him. They’d take him to get his favorite meal, hide his favorite candy bars all over the house for him to find, and make him tea while they watched Disney movies.

Out here, by himself, there were no Disney movies and no Kit Kat bars.

He started by trying to sit on the patio and enjoy the view, but he became so distracted by trying to listen for signs of life from Harry above him that he retreated back into his room and sprawled across his bed, watching MTV shows dubbed over in Greek.

He kept thinking he needed to go upstairs and apologize. But the problem was, he still didn’t know how to explain what was wrong with him. He had an inkling of why his panic attack had happened, and it had something to do with the walls that Harry had broken through so easily. But he didn’t know how to begin to explain the mess in his brain. And he didn’t know how to explain to Harry that he couldn’t be what he needed, as much as he wanted to.

Louis didn’t leave his room until three in the afternoon on his birthday, and even then it was only to go order pasta from the restaurant down the way and bring it back so he could eat it in solitude.

If he was going to be lonely, he thought, he might as well go all out.

* * *

When Louis woke up on Christmas morning, there were no excited younger siblings pounding on his door. In fact, it was eerily silent. He remembered where he was before he even opened his eyes, and as he thought about it, something solid seemed to slide into his stomach.

Thousands of miles away, his family was opening their gifts and drinking their coffees and hot chocolates. Lynn had probably made cinnamon buns. His dad had probably built a fire. As he watched the dazzling Greek sunlight fill the corners of his room, even around the blinds hanging in the windows, he realized he was on a completely separate plane of existence than his family. It was still only 2am on the East Coast - they wouldn’t be up for hours.

Vaguely, Louis wondered if he could get on a plane in time to be sitting under the tree when they woke up.

As he laid there, staring at the stripes of light that painted the ceiling of his hotel room in paradise, contemplating his choices, he heard a muffled sound from above. Harry must be awake.

The sound happened again. And again. It was sort of a scratchy noise - was Harry moving furniture?

Suddenly, the sound was punctuated by a wail of misery. And Louis understood. It sounded like Harry was trying his best to stifle himself, but Louis could hear his muffled cries through the ceiling and the solid object in his stomach seemed to grow a few sizes.

Before he had time to really consider the implications of what he was doing, Louis threw off his covers and slid out of bed. There was really nothing to think about, anyway - every one of Harry’s cries felt like it was tugging directly at Louis’s heart, filling all of his veins with the visceral sadness Harry was expressing. It was a sadness he knew well.

He threw on the first t-shirt and pair of jeans he could find, grabbed his keys, and burst out of his room, emerging onto the blindingly bright patio. The sea sparkled a deep, bright blue as the light danced off the waves.

He rounded the side of the building and climbed the winding cement stairs two at a time, emerging onto the roof of his room. He paused in front of the door for a moment - the muffled sobbing sounds were even clearer from here - and knocked. At once, he heard Harry gasp, and then the sounds stopped. There was a bit of sniffling, and then Harry’s footsteps moved closer to the door before it opened.

Louis was met with Harry’s wet, red-rimmed eyes before he had a chance to brace himself. Somehow his crying made his green irises brighter, almost luminous. There were tears racing down his face, as though he was powerless to stop them. He made no attempt to wipe them away, but simply stood there, staring at Louis, his hair in tangles, his clothes hanging wrinkled and limp from his body.

“S-sorry,” said Harry, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Didn’t mean to disturb. I’ll keep it down.”

“No,” said Louis, “Harry…”

His hands were on Harry’s shoulders without his conscious decision to put them there. His cells were aching to reach out, to soothe, to comfort. He folded Harry up in his arms and held on tightly as Harry buried his face in Louis shoulder and his sobs started up again. It took a moment for Harry to fold his arms around Louis in return, and when he did, Louis could feel that his whole body was shaking.

“Shhh,” Louis said, running a palm down Harry’s spine. He gently tugged him further into the room and pressed the door closed behind him, shielding Harry from the curiosity of anyone who might be out and about nearby.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” Harry hiccuped.

“No,” Louis whispered. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He squeezed Harry tighter against him. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of Harry’s bed, which had the comforter stripped off of it and dumped in the corner. Instead, a pile of blankets lay in the center of the bed.

"I know how much this sucks," Louis whispered to him. "And I wish there was something I could do to make it better. But there isn't. You just have to let it suck." 

Harry sobbed even harder.

"But do you know what?" Louis said, tears welling in his own eyes. He softly touched Harry's jaw and hooked his fingers under his chin to tilt his head up, looking into his streaming eyes. He ran his thumbs gently beneath Harry's eyelids to try to help clear some of the water. 

"Every year, it sucks a little bit less. I promise." 

Harry nodded through his tears. Louis spotted a box of tissues on the night stand and sat Harry on the bed so that he could grab them. He handed the box to Harry and sat next to him, arm around his shoulders. 

They stayed like that, without speaking, for a good long while, until Harry had cried himself out and his eyelids were drooping. 

"Come on," said Louis, taking Harry's hands. "Let's lie down. Take a little nap, okay?"

Harry nodded, his eyes already closed. 

Louis brushed Harry's hair away from his clammy forehead and, though his defenses were shouting at him to get up and leave, he knew he wouldn't. Couldn't. Harry shouldn't have to wake up alone. 

* * *

  
When Harry finally blinked his eyes open a couple hours later, Louis was there to see it. He was sitting upright against the headboard, more Jersey Shore reruns playing quietly on the TV. 

"Hi," Harry said, watching Louis carefully. 

"Hi." Louis stared openly back. 

"I'm sorry," they said together. Louis laughed. 

"Why on Earth are you sorry?" 

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," said Harry. 

"I'm sorry you had to deal with me, the other night," said Louis. "This is a hard day - you have every right to be upset." 

"So do you," Harry said, sitting up. 

"I should be better at this by now," said Louis. "It happened years ago." 

Harry shook his head. "It's never going to go away. I'm just hoping it gets a little bit more bearable as time goes by." 

Louis stared at Harry's lower lashes, which were clinging together. "That's very true. And it does, in most ways." 

Harry sighed and sat up against the headboard next to Louis, leaving several inches of space between them. Louis felt himself itching to tangle their fingers together, the way he had yesterday. 

"I used to be good at this stuff," said Louis. "But ever since my mom died, it's like. I have this paralyzing fear of losing people. And I just keep putting up these walls and not talking about it. I told you. I've never opened up this much to anyone else. Niall - my best friend - he was there for all of it. But I still just can't-" 

He cut himself off. 

"I told myself that I could just enjoy my time with you and allow myself to have this thing that made me feel good, you know? But the more I started getting close to you, the more I kept trying to panic. I would shove all it into the back of my mind, and I think. I think the other night it just kind of combusted." 

Louis dragged his hands down his face. 

"I know you just need some company right now," he said. "I know that's what I am. And I thought I could be okay with it, because I just met you a few days ago and because you make my anxiety shut off, somehow. But I can't. I can't let myself be vulnerable when I know that I'm just for now." 

He dropped his hands and looked at Harry, who was staring at him with his mouth slightly agape. "I got scared to lose you," he said. 

"That's what you thought this was?" Harry said, his voice rough. "You thought I just needed company?" 

"Well, that night in the hot tub," Louis said, "You said you didn't want to be alone." 

"I don't," Harry said, "but if it was just that, I could've talked to anybody. I could've sat in a coffee shop or on the beach all day and talked people's ears off. I could've hung out with Penelope." 

Louis frowned at him. 

"I spent all my time with you because I wanted to, Louis," Harry said earnestly, the spark returning to his sad eyes. "Because you're fascinating, and you're so kind, and you're beautiful." 

Louis ducked his head and stared at the blankets. 

"I'm serious," Harry said, "You - you were so willing to set aside your own problems and emotions because you thought I needed you. Someone you _just met_. That's so ridiculously selfless, I don't even know what to say." 

"Not entirely," said Louis. "It was partially selfish. I like being around you because you make me feel so comfortable and relaxed." 

Harry slid closer to Louis and took his hands in his own. They were warm and solid. Louis felt his shoulders melt. 

"I'm glad I make you feel that way," Harry whispered. "You deserve to feel comfortable and relaxed. You deserve to be happy." 

Louis's eyes fell shut, and there was a hard lump in his throat all of a sudden. He felt Harry's lips on his eyelids. 

"Louis," he whispered. "You have no idea how strong you are. How brave."

Louis trembled as Harry kissed down his cheek, along his jaw, and finally met his lips. 

"I hope," Harry whispered against his lips, drawing back, "that in time, I can be as brave as you are about all of this. You give me hope that things will get better."

Louis swallowed thickly. Words seemed to have escaped his brain. The only thing he seemed to know was the way Harry's lips and hands felt on him. 

"Harry," he said. 

"Hmm?" 

"I missed you." 

Harry took his wrists and tugged him down to lay on the mattress. "I missed you too," he said, kissing Louis's forehead. 

They lay there observing each other quietly for a few minutes. Harry's eyes darted around, from various points on his face, down his body to the dip in his waist. Louis couldn't help but admire silly little things about Harry. Things he wasn't sure why he even noticed. Like the shape of the cupid's bow above his lips, and the way his skin looked where his neck met his chest. The way his body was shaped. He was long and lean, yet muscular at the same time. 

"I'm sorry I pushed you too far the other day," Harry said. "I really felt terrible about upsetting you." 

Louis pushed a stray strand of hair that had tangled with Harry's eyelashes away from his face. "It wasn't your fault. I didn't see it coming, how could you?" 

"Louis, I -" 

Harry cut himself off, looking as though he was steeling himself for something.

"I care about you so much. I just want to make you feel happy and safe. And I know we live in different cities, but if you'd let me I'd take the train to visit every weekend. I don't want this to just be a vacation thing." 

Louis leaned into Harry's body and wound his arms around him. Harry burrowed his face into Louis's shoulder and slid one of his thighs between Louis's. 

"Remember how I said I got scared to lose you?" Louis laughed. "I am very much on board with this not just being a vacation thing."

Harry pulled back and blinked at him, his lips quirking into a smile. "You're sure?" he said, an excited glint already forming in his eyes. "You mean it?"

"Of course," said Louis. "Harry, you're - you're special, alright?" 

Harry had his lips on Louis's before he could blink, and Louis smiled into the kiss. He then started moving down Louis's throat and running his tongue along the hollows of his collarbones. Louis sighed. 

"Mind if I try to finish what I started the other night?" Harry asked him. He propped himself up on an elbow and stared into Louis's eyes. "Or we can cuddle instead. I love cuddling."

Heat flushed up Louis's neck. "Yeah, I - I think that'd be alright." 

Harry grinned and pecked his lips. "Tell me the moment you stop having fun." 

"We talked it out," said Louis, sitting up slightly raising his arms as Harry got rid of his shirt. "I think my dumb brain can hopefully relax." 

"Hey," said Harry, as Louis's head popped out of his shirt. He pressed Louis back into a lying position and held himself over him, one hand on either side of Louis's head. "Don't call your brain dumb. It's not dumb. It's wonderful." 

Louis rolled his eyes. 

"I mean it." 

"Alright, alright." 

Harry bit Louis's lip gently and resumed his progress of kissing down Louis's chest, this time uninhibited by pesky shirts. 

"Besides," Louis said, his voice breathy as Harry started licking one of his nipples. "You're supposed to have sex on your birthday, right?" 

Harry shot up, his hair mussed on one side from his ministrations, his mouth agape. "What did you say?" 

Louis couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous Harry looked. 

"It's your birthday?!" 

"Yesterday," said Louis, grinning up at him. 

Harry's face fell.

"Hey, no-" 

"Louis," he said, crawling up and grabbing Louis's face. "Your birthday. I missed it. You should've told me. We should've celebrated." 

"We're celebrating now," Louis shrugged. "Besides, it really not that important. I don't get excited about it anymore." 

Harry's eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that.'

He grabbed Louis's hands and kissed the delicate skin inside his wrists, then slid back down his body to work his magic with his hands and his lips. Louis got lost in the heat and the closeness and the intimacy of it all, and when he finished (which didn't take very long at all), he realized as his orgasmic fog cleared that his dumb brain hadn't interrupted them once. 

* * *

  
After Louis's returned Harry's favor and scrubbed himself clean of today's happiness and yesterday's lingering evidence of sweat and misery in Harry's shower, he walked back into the bedroom with his waist wrapped in a towel. 

Harry was standing in the middle of the room, already dressed in a Christmas-themed button-down and shorts. 

"Well hello, fancy," said Louis. 

"Get dressed," said Harry. 

"Bossy," said Louis, as he fished the clothes he'd been wearing earlier from their heap at the end of Harry's bed. 

"We're going out to celebrate your birthday." 

Louis groaned. "Harry, I told you it's not important. It's Christmas - we can celebrate that." 

"Nope," said Harry. "Screw Christmas." 

Louis nearly dropped his shirt. "Did you just say _screw Christmas_? 

"Yes." 

"You?" Louis repeated. "Santa Claus's head elf? Mr. Christmas-is-the-best? Harry 'Travels-in-Santa-Hats' Styles?" 

"Yes." 

"I may need to lie down," Louis teased. 

"No, Louis, we have to get ready," Harry said. 

"Ready for what?"

"I just told you, we're going out for your birthday." 

"Where do you envision us finding a table at the last minute on Christmas Day?" 

"I've already got it covered, just get dressed!" 

Louis sighed and tugged his clothes back on. Harry's eyes flashed momentarily when he dropped his towel. 

"I'm going to have to go back downstairs," he pointed out. "I can't wear this out to the North Pole or whatever it is you have planned." 

"You look great. Perfect." Harry walked towards him and cupped his face in his hands, kissing him gently. "Amazing." 

"Fine," Louis grumbled as Harry captured his lips again. "Let's go, Santa." 

"Please don't start calling me Santa." 

"You mean you don't have a Santa kink?" Louis laughed as Harry linked their hands and led Louis outside, locking the door behind them. 

"No, I'm afraid that's not on the table." 

"Well, shit," Louis said. "That's the whole reason I signed up for this." 

Harry tugged him in by the hand and kissed him on the cheek, then moved his lips to Louis's ear and whispered, "Shut up." 

They spent the majority of their walk to dinner laughing, bouncing ridiculous jokes off of each other. Nothing was even particularly funny. Louis just felt so elated, so relieved, that it was almost as though his body couldn't help but express it in some way.   


* * *

  
It turned out that Harry had booked a table at the restaurant they'd had dinner at on their very first night. And requested the exact same table. 

"Our first date," Louis grinned. "I can't believe you remembered - it was all those years ago." 

"Do you always ruin everything?" Harry asked, his voice full of adoration. 

"Oh, yes." 

"Good to know," Harry said, tugging Louis's chair out for him before sitting down across from him. 

The restaurant was serving a traditional Christmas feast, complete with baklava, stuffed cabbage, Christmas bread, cheese pastries, and pork roast. They opted for a bottle of red wine and ate and drank their fill. 

"Hey, Harry," Louis said, the wine a pleasant buzz in his veins, everything loose and pleasant. 

"Hey, Louis." 

"Since I ditched my family for Christmas, they want to celebrate with me on New Year's," he said. "Would you, uh - maybe want to come?" 

"Come?" Harry said. "To Philly? And meet your family?" 

"I know it's kind of a lot, right away," said Louis, panic flaring momentarily in his abdomen. "But I just thought-"

"No, I'd completely love that, Louis," he said earnestly, setting his fork down. 

"Really?"

"Yes!" Harry said. "Are you kidding? Getting to see you again so soon after we get back, plus getting to see where you live, plus getting to meet your family? Sounds like heaven."

Louis tilted his head. "You're weird." 

"You like it."

"I do," said Louis with a grin. "I really do." 


	4. Epilogue

Look up, out of your window  
See snow, won't let it in though  
Leave home, feel the wind blow  
'Cause it's colder here inside in silence  
And you don't have to keep it quiet

Yeah, I know it makes you nervous  
But I promise you, it's worth it  
To show 'em everything you kept inside  
Don't hide  
\- Billie Eilish, _come out and play_

* * *

One Year Later 

* * *

Louis's sister Angie let out a blood-curling shriek, and Louis dropped the piping bag he was holding poised over a cookie and dashed into the living room.

Angie was sitting on Harry's shoulders as he spun in circles. They were both laughing hysterically, until finally Harry lost his balance and they tipped into the couch cushions. 

"If you wouldn't mind," Louis said loudly over the sound of their laughter, "I could use some help in the kitchen. Four dozen cookies aren't going to decorate themselves." 

Angie rolled her eyes. "Relax, Lou," she said. "We'll get them done." 

"Yeah, babe, relax," said Harry, walking around behind Louis and slipping his arms around Louis's waist. Louis leaned back against him and pouted. "It's my birthday. I shouldn't be doing all the work." 

"It's your birthday?" His other sister, Steph, had emerged at the bottom of the stairs. "I wish you'd have mentioned something. I had no idea." 

"Excuse me," said Louis, while Harry laughed against his ear. "I am not the one who hung this ridiculous banner." 

He gestured towards the fireplace, where hanging across the mantlepiece, blocking the stockings and the Christmas decor almost entirely, was a large, gaudy "Happy Birthday" banner. 

"That's true," said Steph. "Maybe it just feels extra bad this year because your cheesy boyfriend won't stop declaring his love for you all over the place." 

Louis blushed - they hadn't quite gotten to that particular milestone yet, although he could feel the words on the tip of his tongue every night when he and Harry talked on the phone before bed. 

"You're just jealous," said Louis. 

"As if," she fired back, tossing her long, brown ponytail over her shoulder. "I have a date the day after Christmas." 

Louis froze. "Do Lynn and Dad know this?"

"Yes."

"And they're allowing it?"

"Of course. I'm seventeen, Louis." 

"I'll have a word with them about that." 

"Louis!" 

"Hey, come on," Harry said, tightening his arms around Louis's waist and spinning them out of the room and back into the kitchen. "She'll be fine." 

Louis huffed. "I still don't think I should be subjected to this kind of abuse on my birthday." 

"No," agreed Harry, closing his teeth gently around Louis's earlobe. "I can think of other things I'd rather subject you to for your birthday, if I'm honest."

Louis shivered. "And what would those be?" 

"Yes, what would those be?" Lynn had reappeared in the kitchen, and was currently staring at the two of them with an eyebrow raised. 

"Uh..." Harry seemed at a loss for words, and Louis just about doubled over with laughter. 

"Come on," he said, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him towards the counters where the cookies lay cooling on racks. "Let's decorate." 

Lynn poured herself a cup of coffee from the steaming pot Harry had started earlier, then said, "Don't have too much fun!" and left the room again. 

"She's great," Harry said, already piping a red nose onto a reindeer cookie. 

"She is," Louis agreed.   
  
"When you come back to mine in a few days, my mom will probably make us sleep in separate beds," Harry said. "I like how chill she is about everything."   
  
"Separate beds, huh? I'm sure that'll work. I wouldn't want you damaging my innocence."  
  
Harry laughed. 

* * *

  
Later that afternoon, while Louis and Harry napped in Louis's childhood twin bed, twined up like vines, Louis's entire family left on a shopping excursion. They woke up, groggy, to Harry's alarm, and went downstairs to find a note taped to the fridge that said "Gone shopping! Back later!"

"It's Christmas Eve!" said Louis, aghast. "What could they possibly still need to shop for?" 

"Don't you mean, it's your birthday?" Harry asked. 

"Well, that too. I thought we were having my traditional Christmas Eve feast of pizza and hoagies." 

"They'll be back," Harry said. "They wouldn't miss that."

He kissed Louis on the cheek and stretched. 

"I think I'm going to shower," Harry said. "Join me?" 

That suggestion led to about 45 minutes of very sudsy, slippery sex in which Harry choked on a mouthful of water and had to be smacked on the back several times. Once they were clean and back in Louis's room, Harry rifling through Louis's closet, Louis sighed. 

"They will be back, won't they?" he said. "I mean, they haven't even texted." 

"They will. I promise." 

Harry handed him a button-down shirt and a nice pair of jeans. "I think you should wear this." 

Louis stared at him. "Since when are you my fashion consultant?" 

"Please?" said Harry. "That shirt really brings out your eyes. You should wear something special for your birthday." 

"We're not even leaving the house, Harry, the pizza place up the street delivers even on holidays." 

"Let's make it special, Louis, come on. I'll wear something nice too." Harry held up his own cozy-looking knit sweater. 

"Fine," said Louis, rolling his eyes as he shrugged the shirt on. "You weirdo." 

Harry just grinned. Just as they were finished dressing, Louis's phone started to ring. 

"Oh good," he said, reaching for it, "Maybe that's them." 

But when he glanced at the screen, it was Niall's name flashing. 

"Hello, Nialler," Louis said. 

"Get your ass out front," Niall said, "I'm in the driveway."

"That is an extremely impolite way to talk to the birth- wait. Why are you in the driveway?" 

"I'm picking you and Harry up."

"Niall, it's my birthday. My family is kind of expecting me to have dinner here." 

"Don't worry, it's just for a little bit. I'll get you back in time." 

Louis glanced over at Harry, who was still grinning.

"Niall's here?" asked Harry. 

Louis narrowed his eyes and nodded. 

"Well, let's go then!" Niall had already disconnected the call, so Louis stowed his phone in his pocket, grabbed his wallet and coat, and he and Harry descended the stairs and left the house through the garage. 

Sure enough, there was Niall's Honda CR-V idling in the driveway. 

Louis shook his head as they shut the garage door behind them, then hopped into Niall's car, Harry calling shotgun. 

"This is a very odd birthday gift," Louis said as he buckled himself in. "Taking someone hostage." 

"You're so dramatic," Niall said, and Louis could see him roll his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

"I'm allowed to be dramatic on my birthday."

"One time," Niall told Harry as he backed the car out, "in the second grade, Louis got so upset that one girl in our class didn't wish him a happy birthday before Christmas break that he stopped speaking to her for two years." 

"I mean, she was really annoying," he said over Harry's laughter. "It was more of a convenient excuse than anything." 

"Of course it was." 

As Niall and Harry chatted throughout the drive, Louis stayed mostly silent, trying to determine where they were taking him. They seemed to be driving towards the city. 

"Hey Niall," said Louis, "don't forget, I have to be home for dinner."

"I haven't forgotten, Lou, don't get your panties in a twist." 

The drive wore on for a while, with Louis punctuating the silence every few minutes by asking where they were going. Eventually, Niall turned the radio up so loudly that they couldn't hear him talk anymore. 

They drove into Center City, and Louis truly could not figure out what was happening. Until Niall pulled the car right up in front of Carmelo's where there was a parking spot conveniently waiting for them. 

Louis expected it to be closed for Christmas, but the place was completely lit up, twinkling lights in the windows and people milling about inside. 

"What-" 

Harry came around and opened his door. "Come on out, birthday boy." 

He slid out of the car and Harry took his hand. Niall was holding the door open for them, a goofy smile on his face. 

As he walked through the threshold, he was nearly thrown off-balance by a roar of "Surprise!" 

The room was filled with people, and as he refocused, he saw his Dad and Lynn, his sisters, approximately half of his office, and some friends that he and Niall went out with about once a month. The room was so covered in Christmas lights and garland that it was barely recognizable as Carmelo's. All around sat trays heaped with sandwiches, huge bowls of different types of salad, and coolers of beer and wine. And in the very center of the room, a huge, three-tier cake with the words "Happy Birthday Louis and Jesus" written on it in red icing. 

"I'm not- I can't- What the hell!" Louis shouted. Everyone burst into laughter. 

"Thank your boy, here," Niall said, clapping Harry on the shoulder. Louis looked at Harry, who grinned bashfully and squeezed his hand. 

"I just thought you deserved some sweet happiness," Harry said. 

Louis definitely was not getting choked up. No, sir. It was simply the fumes from all of the roast beef sandwiches. 

He became separated from Harry for quite a few minutes as he made his rounds, hugging everyone in the room and thanking them for giving up their Christmas Eve dinners with their families for him. 

"Nowhere else I'd rather be, Lou," Niall said when Louis told him this. He held up his beer, and Louis knocked his own against Niall's. "Happy birthday." 

"Thanks, Niall," Louis said. 

When he finally found Harry again, he was sitting next to a tray of sandwiches, watching it with apprehension.

"Are they plotting an attack?" Louis asked him. He looked up and smiled.

"No, I've just already eaten like, six of them?" Harry said. "They're trying to convince me to eat another, but I think I might explode."

"That's Carmelo's for you," Louis nodded. 

"Having fun? Harry asked.

"So much. Harry, this is amazing." 

"Good. You deserve it." 

"I can't believe you did all this for me."

"Believe it." 

Louis set his beer down. "Can you come outside with me for a minute?"

"Uh, sure." Harry tore himself away from the sandwiches and followed Louis out the front door. 

Snow had started to flurry, kissing the sidewalk gently and then melting into nothing. Their little corner of the city was deserted except for the two of them - they had only the snowflakes for company. 

Louis slid his hands into Harry's front pockets to keep them warm. They hadn't stopped to grab their coats on the way outside, and Harry's teeth were chattering. Louis leaned in to kiss him and warm his mouth up.

"So, why are we outside in the snow?" Harry asked. 

"You did this," said Louis.

"I mean, Niall and your parents did most of it."

"No, Harry," Louis said, kissing him again gently, "this was your idea. You set this up for me." 

Harry swallowed. "I did," he said. 

"Why did you do it?" 

"I told you," Harry said, smiling, "I wanted to see you happy. Plus I missed your birthday last year, remember?" 

He tucked a piece of Hair behind Louis's ear. 

Louis felt like the warmth in his heart could heat the space around them if they were to stay on this sidewalk all night long. He felt like it might explode out of him. So he let it. 

"I love you, Harry," said Louis. 

Harry's eyes went wide. Louis kissed his mouth. 

"I can't believe," he said, "that you stole my moment." 

Louis tilted his head. "That's not how one usually responds." 

"Louis, I had this whole plan of making you sit next to the Christmas tree tonight after your family went to bed and telling you that I loved you!" 

Louis burst into laughter. 

"No you did not." 

"I swear!" 

"Listen up, Harry Styles," Louis said, smiling as he kissed him again, his body remarkably steady given the fact that his insides were practically dancing. "You don't get to have all the grand romantic gestures, alright? I get to have some too." 

Harry laughed and kissed Louis back. "I suppose that's fair." 

"All's fair in love and Christmas." 

"And birthdays," said Harry.

"And birthdays," Louis repeated.

And Louis took him by the hands and led him back inside, towards the warmth and the light and the people he loved. 


End file.
